James Mitchell (1) (1926–2002)

Callan was one of my favourite TV shows when I was a kid, and having recently watched all the surviving episodes (British TV companies in the 60s and early 70s had a habit of recording over shows in their archives due to the high costs of the tapes, hence the loss of certain episodes of Callan, Doctor Who, et al) is one of the few shows that not only is as good as I remember, but is actually better now that I better understand its themes.

Callan was a reaction to, and against, the prevailing glossy image of the spy depicted in the James Bond films and TV shows like The Man from UNCLE. David Callan is decidedly down-at-heel, living in a shabby flat and, having been forcibly retired from his job as executioner for 'The Section', working as an accounts clerk for an unpleasant wholesale grocer. Although one of their most efficient operatives, Callan had started to question his orders and had developed a guilty conscience about some his assassination jobs.

Inevitably, Callan is drawn back into the murky world of national security, but is he prepared to embrace that live again? If he does, can he live with his conscience? I'd he doesn't, will the Section chief, Hunter, allow him to live?

Given my love of the TV programme and that this novelisation of the pilot episode is written by the original screenwriter, it was unlikely that I would find much wrong with this book. Indeed, my only gripe is that it sticks too closely to the TV show and I would have liked to have had some more background on Callan and his smelly sidekick, Lonely. A minor complaint though. My obvious bias aside, this is a superior thriller, the more so for being a realistic and earthy depiction of the works of the security and intelligence services (at least, as far as I can tell, not being a spy myself).… (meer)